I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

Do tales of ‘Black Friday violence’ reflect reality or just our bias?
Don’t show me the past or the future; show me what you can give now
I want my children surrounded by tools of creation, not consumption
Experimentation produces beauty that won’t come from slavishly following One True Way
My heart longs for a future that’s more real to me than the dim past
When I die, what will I remember? Who won an election or who I loved?
Few things satisfy like giving thoughtful gifts to those we love
Our choices determine whether we die alone or surrounded by love